


A Heart's Bane

by ruethereal



Category: Harry Potter - Fandom
Genre: Angst, Cross-Gen, M/M, Second person POV, UST
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-06-30
Updated: 2010-06-30
Packaged: 2017-10-10 08:13:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 562
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/97554
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ruethereal/pseuds/ruethereal





	A Heart's Bane

You watch the boy carefully, hoping your face shows confidence in him, because all you can think about is how much he’s hurting himself by pushing so hard.  But his determination reminds you so much of the both of them, and, as cruel as you know it is, seeing it makes you smile.  You see James’s lips thinning as he scolds himself internally; you see Lily’s eyes narrowing in frustration.  What would they say if they knew, if anyone knew, that the Wizarding World’s boy-hero keeps you awake at night, setting fire to your body, just _thinking_ about his small lithe body tanned from Quidditch, his bright eyes welcoming and innocent, his thin pink lips smiling when he calls you _Professor Lupin_?

You're disgusting.

You see the boy grit his teeth, anticipating the boggart-dementor, and you find it harder to open the packing case.  But he meets your gaze and nods, steeling himself.  You open the case with a brief flick of your wand and immediately feel your insides freeze.  In your eyes and in your head, memories of the Bite, the pain of transforming, and the humiliation you brought to your family with your curse swirl with newer agonies—these shameful feelings for James and Lily’s son, this _boy_.

“_Expecto_—_expecto patronum_—”

His strangled voice tears you from your dementor-induced torture.  Seeing Harry clinging to consciousness, you rush between them.

“_Riddikulus_!”

The boggart-dementor transforms into a miniature full moon, and you force it back into the packing case.  You turn and, at first, you’re afraid that he’s fainted when you see he isn't standing.  But you sigh inwardly, relieved that he’s only kneeling on the stone floor.  You crouch beside his quaking form and tentatively reach out to grasp his shoulder.

“That’s enough for tonight, Harry.”

He nods slightly, taking in a shaky breath, and mumbles, “Thanks, Professor.”

_Professor_.  Your chest tightens, but you smile anyway.  What you'd give to hear him call you _Remus_.  He returns the smile, and you feel your own warm at the sight.  You relish in watching the firelight glow on his cheeks and dance in his eyes, adding flecks of gold to the emerald green.  You realize hungrily that he doesn’t look exactly like James, his face softer despite being thinner, more innocent, more transparent.  You see the intensity in his eyes, enough to match Lily’s.

“Professor Lupin?”

You release a breath you don’t remember holding, painfully aware of the heat in your groin.  You can’t tell if he’s confused, concerned, or both, but the way he’s staring at you leaves no doubt of just how desperately you’ve been staring at him.  For the briefest moment, you're sure he _knows_, but then he spares you, giving a shy, smaller grin.

“I’ll see you next Thursday?”

His voice is still warm, still inviting.  For the briefest moment, you pray you could muster some control over yourself and just turn the boy down.  You know he’s your 13-year-old student; you know he’s the son of two of your closest friends; you _know_ that, regardless of how old he is or who his parents are, your feelings are utterly damnable.  Filthy, contaminated, and broken, you have nothing to offer the boy except your pathetic feelings and memories of the parents he’ll never know.  While there’s still a chance, turn him away.

The moment’s passed.  You nod.

“Next Thursday.”


End file.
